


Comfort and Joy

by pavlablack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Community: Remus/Sirius Small Gifts, M/M, Masturbation, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pavlablack/pseuds/pavlablack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius can't get his new neighbour, Remus Lupin, out of his mind. Non-magical modern day AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort and Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abbyvonnormal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbyvonnormal/gifts).



> Written for acidbathory for Remus/Sirius Small Gifts 2012. Illustration Ye Merry Gentlemen by myprettycabinet at http://mypretty-art.livejournal.com/103627.html.
> 
> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JKR, not me. No copyright infringement intended.

Three weeks before Christmas, Sirius wakes up to far too much noise. At first he thinks it's just the elephant herd thundering round in his head, the one that took up residence sometime between drinks five and six and hours three and four, causing him to stumble through the door and pass out on the sofa with the light and his boots still on. But when he's coherent enough to distinguish the sounds in his head from the sounds outside of it, he hears what sounds like uncertain footsteps and something heavy sliding across the floor.

He pulls a pillow over his head to muffle the noise and has just fallen back asleep when a loud crash jolts him awake again.

"Oi! Shut up, would you?" he shouts in the direction of the noise, which is coming from the flat beside his where Snape, or as Sirius likes to call him, The Greasy Git, lives. He staggers off the sofa, still half-drunk, and pounds his fist against the wall. "Shut! The! Fuck! Up!"

"Sorry!" a voice calls out. It's not his neighbour's usual response, but Sirius drags himself back to the sofa and passes out again before he has time to think about it.

He wakes to soft knocking a few hours later, and now that he's sober, he tries not to but can't help hoping it's Regulus at the door, ready to apologise or accept Sirius's apology, whichever one will make them brothers again.

"Just a minute," he says, getting up, his heart and his head pounding. If it's Snape at the door, Sirius is going to kill him.

It's not Regulus. But it's not Snape, either.

"Hello. I just stopped by to apologise for the noise this morning. I just moved in and I'm afraid I was a bit eager to get settled and . . . well, here," the man says, holding out a bag of chocolate biscuits. "I baked them myself. Though I don't know that that's a selling point."

The man is attractive in a quiet way, a barely discernable scar traveling down the length of his face, brown fringe falling into his eyes, which are a warm chocolate color and friendly enough despite the fact that Sirius's first words to him were accompanied by curses rather than biscuits.

"Thanks," Sirius says, taking the offering. His fingers brush the other man's fingers and he suddenly wishes he had a bit more sleep and a shower and didn't smell like a combination of cigarettes, alcohol, and desperation. "When did you move in?" he asks, wincing at how daft the question is since the man just told him that. "Sorry. You caught me at a bad time."

"Of course, I don't want to disturb," the man says, nodding and turning away.

"No, I didn't mean that." Sirius runs a hand through his hair and is horrified when he realises several sprigs are sticking straight up. "I meant, the shouting, last night or this morning, or whenever it was." He tries to smooth his hair down.

"Don't worry about it. I should have waited for a more reasonable hour to start lugging boxes around, but my friend James was helping me move and he could only come this morning."

"It's all right," Sirius says, dropping his hand to his side. "I wouldn't have been so nasty, but . . . well, let's just say I didn't have the best relationship with the previous tenant."

"I gathered that." He smiles. "So, anything I need to know to stay in your good graces?"

"You're already off to a much better start. He never brought me biscuits."

"I won't take the banging on the wall personally then."

"Please don't," Sirius says. "I was just a bit hung-over. Still am, actually. But that's no excuse for being rude."

"Well, in that case, why don't you tell me your name?"

"Oh, right. Sirius. Sirius Black." He says the surname quickly, hoping the man won't realise he's heir (or was heir) to Black Industries. It's all over the news, how the company sacked two hundred workers just before the holidays, with no warning and no severance pay, while top executives got a generous raise and an all-expense paid trip to a swanky resort posing as some sort of business retreat.

But if the man judges him, Sirius doesn't see it. "I'm Remus Lupin," he says, taking Sirius's hand. "Nice to meet you, neighbour."

For the first time, Sirius is glad his parents disinherited him so he had to move into this shoddy little flat, where the prospects look ever so much more promising than he could have imagined.

***

A week later, Sirius hears what sounds like a struggle outside his door.

"Fuck!"

He goes out to investigate and can't help but laugh. It looks like his new neighbour is having a fight with a Christmas tree, and the tree is winning.

"Sorry," Remus says, trying to balance the tree against the wall and open his door at the same time. "I'm not usually such a noisy neighbour, I promise."

"It's all right. Here, let me help with that." He holds onto the tree so Remus can get his door open.

"Thanks."

Sirius takes the bottom end and Remus takes the top, backing into the room. After they set up the tree in a corner, Remus pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his brow.

Even though he barely knows him, Sirius thinks it is both adorable and sexy that Remus carries around a handkerchief.

"You've got some . . . tree bits in your hair," Sirius gestures, wishing he had the nerve to reach out and touch him. Instead, he watches as Remus combs his hair out with his fingers.

"Well, then." Remus puts his handkerchief away and lays his coat atop a chair. "I at least owe you a cup of tea for your help. Or would you like a whiskey instead?"

"I was actually just on my way out," Sirius says, and even though it's true, he could kick himself for saying it. "I'm meeting my brother at the Leaky to discuss some . . . business."

"I thought you looked as though you were headed out." Remus brushes a pine needle off Sirius's jacket and smoothes his tie, his fingers brushing against Sirius's neck for a moment. "There, now. Good as new."

Sirius feels a swooping sensation in the pit of his stomach. "Er . . . thanks."

"No, thank you. I'll leave you to your evening, then," Remus says, stepping back.

The next words spill out before Sirius has time to think about them. "I expect we'll be done in an hour or so, if you want to meet for a drink there. At the Leaky, I mean."

"I think I've intruded on your time enough for one night," Remus says with a small smile. "But the offer still stands. Come round for a drink anytime."

***

By the time Sirius completes the short walk to the restaurant, he's a bundle of nerves, partly because of the way this man he's only just met can turn him inside out with the simplest of touches, partly because he knows things aren't going to go well with Regulus.

He's right.

"I don't see how you can still work there," Sirius says, just before taking a bite of his steak and groaning in ecstasy, everything else forgotten for the moment. He hasn't eaten this well since he moved out. Of course, Regulus is paying with his company card, and Sirius knows he's thus benefiting from the money his family has made off the backs of the poor, but hunger wins out over guilt, this time.

"This business has been in our family forever, Sirius. What do you expect me to do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Stand up for people who can't stand up for themselves? Grow a spine?" Sirius instantly regrets the question after seeing the look on Regulus's face. "I'm sorry, Reg," he says, flashing back to his brother at six years old, crying as their father took the belt to him and shouted those exact words. Sirius had gotten between them so he could bear the brunt of the beating, while their mother busied herself with picking out table settings for the next so-called charity function so she wouldn't have to watch. "I didn't mean that."

"It's fine," Regulus says, but he avoids Sirius's eyes and looks out across the restaurant, a pained expression on his face.

That is, until Tom Riddle walks in, and Regulus lights up like he's just seen Saint Nick himself.

"Tom!" he calls out, waving the man over. Sirius is chilled by the way Regulus can let go of his emotions so quickly. He's seen their father do it countless times, putting on whatever mask he needs if a business deal depends on it. Sirius wonders if the man has any emotions at all, if everything he does is a way to gain power, whether over the business world or his family. He hopes Regulus isn't headed down the same path.

"Mr. Black," Riddle says, gliding over to their table and putting a hand on Regulus's shoulder. "Have you been keeping up with the reports? The merger of our companies has caused quite a stir."

Regulus looks a bit stricken. "Er, yes, well . . ."

"Don't worry," Riddle says, an arrogant smile twisting across his face. "I didn't get where I am today without stepping on a few toes. And neither did your family, I imagine."

"You can say that again," Sirius can't resist adding.

"Ah, you must be Sirius." Riddle grips Sirius's hand in a gesture that seems more menacing than friendly. The man's skin feels cold and clammy against his, and Sirius has a sudden desire to wash his hands. "Orion told me about your little disagreement."

"It was more than a little disagreement." Sirius pulls his hand away and wipes it on his trousers.

"We were just discussing that, sir," Regulus interjects. "I was hoping to talk Sirius around."

"Excellent. We can use all the good blood we can get. I'm afraid there are some in this business who don't quite . . . fit the mold, shall we say. Your father's company was bleeding quite a bit of money, but that's all taken care of now, isn't it?"

"Yeah. And how exactly did you take care of that, Mr. Riddle? By sacking loads of people just before the holidays?" Sirius stands up and throws his napkin on the table. It's a shame he hasn't gotten through more of his dinner, but he's lost his appetite now.

"Sirius!" Regulus throws Sirius a half-angry, half-pleading look.

"Let's not get carried away, Mr. Black," Riddle says coolly, and Sirius can't tell if the man is speaking to Regulus or to him. "One must sometimes make enemies to do great things. But I'll leave you to your dinner. Unless you'd like to discuss a little business? I'm afraid I'm dining alone."

Sirius has to give his brother some credit for not accepting right away. Still, he knows the decision was made as soon as Riddle offered the invitation. "Sirius?" he asks, whether to be kind or to ask for absolution, Sirius isn't certain.

"No thanks, Reg. You've made your choice, and I've made mine." It hurts him to say it, but it's true.

He's standing in the queue at the bar, ready to drink himself into oblivion, when he hears a familiar voice.

"I told you to stay away, Fen."

Sirius looks up and finds Remus sitting at the bar, his shoulders tense. A rough-looking man sits next to him, far too close for Sirius's liking.

He winds his way through the tables until he reaches them.

"Hello," Sirius says to Remus. "Sorry I'm late."

Remus brightens immediately and plays along, going so far as to kiss Sirius on the cheek. "Not a problem. Mind if we head home though? I'm a bit tired."

For a moment Sirius can't speak, too stunned by the kiss and the heat Remus's lips have left on his skin. "Er . . . yes. Home sounds great."

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Remus?" the man named Fen asks, stepping in their way. He lays a hand on Remus's shoulder and leans in, whispering to Remus loudly enough for Sirius to hear. "There may be a few things he'd like to know about you."

"Get your hands off him," Sirius says, stepping forward, and the fact that he sounds like a jealous lover isn't entirely feigned. He wonders how far this is going to go. He's been in a few bar fights, but this man seems more threatening than the average drunk.

Luckily, Remus doesn't seem to need his help. In one swift movement he removes the man's hand from his shoulder, twists it around, and forces him to his knees. "It's over, Fen," he says. "Interfere in my life again, and you'll be sorry." He doesn't wait for the man to respond before grabbing Sirius's hand and pulling him through the crowd and outside, leading them quickly down a couple of alleys before pulling them onto the street again.

"Sorry about that," he says, dropping Sirius's hand.

"Not a problem," Sirius says, and it suddenly occurs to him that he and Remus have done a lot of apologising to each other for two people who barely know each other. He doesn't mind.

"And for the kiss," Remus says, though he doesn't look a bit sorry.

Neither is Sirius. But he doesn't know what to say, so he changes the subject.

"Scary fellow," he says. "Want me to go back and kick him in the arse?"

Remus laughs. "Much as I'd like to see it, it would probably just makes things worse."

Sirius wants to know but is afraid to ask, so he's glad when Remus offers up the information.

"Fen and I were . . . involved. It's over, has been for a long time, but he doesn't want to let go."

"He seems dangerous."

"He can be. Hey," he says, giving Sirius a hard look, "don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I need protecting. I don't. Though I do appreciate the sentiment."

"Okay," Sirius concedes. "Can I just ask one thing though?"

"Sure."

"Were you meeting him there?"

"No. I was looking for you, actually. Thought we might have that drink after all. I saw you there with your brother but I didn't want to impose. It seemed like a tense meeting."

Sirius sighs. "It was."

Remus nods to the right. "This street will take us back to the flat."

They walk in silence until Remus speaks again. "I recognised that Riddle bloke, and what with his name and yours being plastered all over the news lately, I put two and two together. So you're the disinherited son."

"My family has other words for what I am. Traitor, for one."

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"Not much to say."

"Fair enough," Remus says, and Sirius knows there are things he'd rather not talk about either.

"So, what do you do?" Sirius asks. "You don't seem to go out much. Not that I've been watching you, or anything," he quickly adds, realizing that he sounds like a bit of a stalker.

"Of course not," Remus says. "I've noticed you don't go out much either. Not that I've been watching you." He says it lightly, but Sirius senses it's more than a throwaway line. He trips on a crack on the sidewalk.

"Careful there," Remus says, reaching out to steady him.

"So, what do you do?" Sirius asks again, trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

"Oh, right. I'm a teacher. Which is why I've got the holidays off, and why I can't afford to go out much."

It suits him, Sirius thinks. But still, he asks, "Really?"

"Really. My parents were hoping I'd follow in their footsteps and study mythology, but I told them literature was close enough."

"They teach too?"

"Yes. So in a way, I fell into the family business as well."

"Well, at least yours doesn't involve draining the life out of everyone who works for you while you tuck loads of profits away." Sirius says it half-jokingly, half-bitterly, but Remus keeps the mood light.

"Don't I wish." He laughs. "The money part, I mean. And if you ask my students, they probably would say I drain the life out of them, though it's certainly not intentional."

Sirius laughs too, and realises it's the second time he's laughed since leaving home, and both times because of Remus. "Why literature?"

"Well, I always loved books, still do. There's nothing more wonderful than passing that love along to others, when it works."

"That's . . . amazing. I wish I had something like that," Sirius says as they reach the building.

"You can."

Sirius shakes his head. "How can you know that, when I don't even know myself?"

Remus looks at him seriously. "It took a lot of courage to stand up against your family. I think that means you can do anything you want."

Sirius's eyes linger on Remus's, then travel down to his mouth. Right now, all he wants is to run his thumb across those lips, to feel them pressed against his own.

"Lift or stairs?" Remus asks softly.

Sirius forces himself to look away. "Lift."

They get on with a crowd of raucous young people, all dressed for a holiday party from the looks of it, and Sirius has to stand pressed up against Remus. He breathes in his cologne, something woodsy and spicy, and fights the urge to brush his lips against the other man's neck.

Too soon they're standing outside their respective doors.

"Is it too late for that drink?" Sirius asks, more boldly than he feels, as Remus turns his key in the lock.

"No." Remus leans forward and his lips practically brush Sirius's ear.

Then he takes a step back. "But let's leave that for another time, shall we? It'll give us something to look forward to." And he closes the door, leaving Sirius standing in the hall, wondering what just happened, what is going to happen next.

***

Remus is driving him absolutely mad.

They've had the anticipated drink, have had drinks every evening for nearly a fortnight, either at Remus's flat or Sirius's or The Leaky, and Remus even invites Sirius over to help him trim the Christmas tree. But he won't make a move and Sirius can't bring himself to do it, afraid he's misread something.

But then why does Remus keep finding ways to touch him?

Like handing him a book he wants Sirius to read and letting his fingers linger over Sirius's.

Like touching Sirius on the shoulder every time he opens the door and invites him in.

Or brushing Sirius's hair back from his forehead when Sirius finally tells him everything that's gone on with Regulus.

He even lets his leg rest against Sirius's on the sofa when they're watching the telly, for fuck's sake.

And tonight, Sirius is almost certain Remus brushed a hand across his cock on purpose when reaching for the remote.

Sirius goes back to his flat and wanks to thoughts of Remus for the twelfth night in a row, swearing if Remus doesn't do something tomorrow, he will, Christmas Eve be damned.

He wakes the next morning to soft noises coming from next door, a mixture of creaks and groans. He opens his eyes in the half-light and leans over to grab a glass of water. In doing so, his head moves close enough to the wall to make out the sounds more clearly.

"Unh." A low, guttural moan. Then again, and again, the sounds becoming louder, more rhythmic. And Sirius instantly knows—Remus is having one off.

His cock swells at the thought of Remus so close, touching himself. He throws himself back onto the bed and shoves a hand down his pants.

Remus groans more deeply, and then the creaking is joined by the sound of the headboard slamming against the wall.

Sirius imagines Remus gripping the headboard with one hand, holding Sirius's hip with the other as he fucks him.

He yanks his pants down to his knees and jerks off in time to Remus, careful not to make too much noise. His movements and his breaths come faster and faster, and after a while, he forgets to be quiet.

He cries out as he comes, collapsing onto the bed and basking in the best orgasm he's had . . . maybe ever.

It's only when he gets up to shower that he cringes in embarrassment. What if Remus heard him?

He doesn't want to think about that (or maybe he does) so he grabs a towel, turning back just before reaching the door. Part of the reason the flat is so affordable is because the bathrooms are communal. Sirius doesn't think he'll run into Remus but just in case, he brushes his teeth and washes his face in the kitchen sink before heading out into the hall. He can hear the shower running so he waits until the water stops before opening the door.

He's met with a very wet Remus, wearing only a towel, and his cock springs to life again.

"Morning. Afraid the hot water's mostly gone," Remus says, and when he looks at Sirius, there's something mischievous in his eyes. "You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep." He knows he should go in, that it's unnatural to just stand here gaping at the trickle of water making its way down Remus's chest, but he can't help himself—he's rooted to the spot.

"Did something wake you?" Remus asks, moving a bit closer.

"Yeah," Sirius says hoarsely, his heart hammering as he forces himself to look Remus in the eye.

But Remus only nods and sidles past him, and just when Sirius thinks that's it, Remus turns to look over his shoulder and says, "I would say I'm sorry. But I'm not."

Sirius is glad there's no hot water left, because he definitely needs a cold shower now.

***

Remus rings him a few hours later. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Oh, you know, dinner with the family."

"Really?"

"No," Sirius says. "Staying in, I guess."

"No, you're not. Be ready in two hours. I'm visiting some friends, and I want you to come."

Sirius closes his eyes, lingering over the sound of Remus's voice in his ear, saying, "I want you to come." He rubs his cock through his trousers.

"Hey," Remus says after a moment. "You there?"

"Sorry," Sirius says, in what he hopes is an even voice. "Are you sure it's all right?"

"Yes. They said I could bring a date. And Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't drink too much." The next sentence comes out low and seductive. "I want you at least partially sober when we get home."

"Right," Sirius says, before hanging up and having another wank.

***

The evening stretches on and on. Remus introduces Sirius to his friends James and Lily, who are clearly fond of Remus and therefore quite curious about Sirius. Luckily, Remus redirects the conversation anytime it drifts towards Sirius's family. There's Christmas crackers and roasted turkey and pudding, and one final, awkward moment when Sirius and Remus are leaving and James points out that they're standing under the mistletoe. Lily elbows him before bidding them goodnight and shutting the door. And then finally, _finally_ , Remus and Sirius head home.

_Home_ has taken on a different meaning. It used to mean pretending to be someone he wasn't for his family's sake. Then it meant too many nights wondering if he was ever going to be anything but lonely. Now it means one thing: Remus.

Sirius isn't foolish or romantic enough to think he's in love—they've only really known each other for two weeks. But he does think he's well on his way to getting there.

"I enjoyed meeting your friends," he says as Remus takes his hand and they cross the street. Christmas lights and the sound of carolers give Sirius if not a sense of peace, at least the possibility of it. The air is cold and bracing, but that's all right, because Sirius feels more alive than he's felt in a long time. "James seems like a great bloke."

"He is," Remus says. "We've been mates for a long time."

"Wish I'd had a friend like that growing up."

"Well, the way you two got on, it looks like you have one now."

Sirius laughs. "Lily's a bit on the scary side though."

"She can be a bit overprotective. What did she say to you?"

"Nothing, much" Sirius answers, deciding to keep to himself how she'd cornered him in the kitchen.

_"Hurt him and I'll kill you," she'd said, holding out the fork she used to check on the pudding. "Remus has been through a lot and he doesn't need someone who's only going to make things worse."_

_She had certainly startled him, but he couldn't help but like her for wanting to protect Remus. "I'm not like that," he said. "And I know about Fen Grey."_

_"Really. Do you know he gave Remus that scar?"_

_No, he hadn't, though somehow he wasn't surprised. "Look, Lily, I don't plan on hurting him, or letting anyone else."_

_"Good. See that you don't." Then without so much as a beat, she handed him a plate of rolls. "And carry this."_

"We're here," Remus says, bringing him back to the present as they reach the lift. He squeezes Sirius's hand, his eyes ablaze as they seem to take in every bit of Sirius, outside and in. Anyone else looking at him that way would make Sirius want to run, but for once, he isn't scared.

Though he suddenly wishes he'd had a bit more nog to calm his nerves. "Where did you say your parents were spending the holidays?" he asks as they step inside. The lift is empty but for them.

"Germany," Remus says as the doors close, fingering the red scarf he'd given Sirius for Christmas. "That scarf looks good on you, by the way. Brings out your eyes."

"Er, thanks," Sirius says, looking past Remus's ear. "What are they doing there again?"

"On sabbatical, working on some treatise on werewolf mythology. And Sirius?" He leans in and his lips brush Sirius's ear as he whispers, "Shut up."

"Got it," Sirius says, his cock twitching as Remus sucks on his earlobe, sending chills down his spine. Remus kisses his ear, his cheek, before pressing their mouths together and tracing his tongue lightly along Sirius's lips. He tastes sweet and spicy, a hint of citrus on his warm breath.

Sirius grabs the back of Remus's head and deepens the kiss, exploring Remus's mouth with his tongue. And then they are kissing frantically, breathlessly, until Sirius stumbles into the wall and against the emergency stop button. The lift grinds to a halt.

"Good idea," Remus says, using the ends of Sirius's scarf to pull him around and press him against the other wall.

"Remus," Sirius whispers, looking at the doors.

"Thought I told you to be quiet," Remus says sharply, as he opens Sirius's coat and unbuttons his shirt, trailing kisses down his chest and stomach. And then he's on his knees and his fingers are undoing Sirius's trousers.

Sirius shivers as Remus slides the zipper down, his knuckles brushing along Sirius's cock. And then he presses his hand against it and Sirius can feel his knees buckle.

"Oh!" He puts a fist to his mouth and presses his other hand against the wall for support.

Remus looks up at him. "You don't have to be _completely_ quiet, you know. In fact," he says wickedly, "I quite enjoyed the noises you made this morning." And in one quick motion, he pulls Sirius's pants down. "God, your cock is so gorgeous. Been thinking about doing this all day."

Sirius moans, pressing his hands onto Remus's shoulders.

"So gorgeous," Remus murmurs, his hands cupping Sirius's arse as he traces a tongue along the head of Sirius's cock. And then his lips close around it and he sucks, his tongue flicking back and forth, back and forth, and Sirius doesn't know if he's making noises or not because he's gone deaf and blind and dumb. All he knows, all he wants to know, is the feel of Remus's soft mouth around him, Remus's soft hair clutched in his fingers.

"Remus," he finally gasps. "If you don't stop, I'm going to—"

Remus lets his tongue travel along the length of Sirius's cock once more before pulling away, guiding Sirius's hand to the base and squeezing. "Hold on. You're not coming yet."

And then, with another wicked smile, he stands up and starts the lift again.

Sirius stumbles and redoes his trousers.

"So . . ." he says breathlessly when they reach their floor. "Your place or mine? Because if you don't fuck me tonight, I'm going to file a complaint."

Remus laughs and kisses him again. "I see that blow job got you past your shyness."

"Shy? I'm not shy."

Remus shakes his head, still smiling. "Sirius, I've been giving you signals for nearly two weeks. Not my fault you were too daft to pick up on them."

Sirius feels a blush work its way up his face.

"Hey," Remus says, lifting his chin and kissing him lightly, almost tenderly, on the lips. "I'm only joking. Besides, some things are worth waiting for. And on that note, is there anything you need to check on inside? Because we're going to my flat, and you're not leaving."

"I just need you," Sirius says quickly before looking down. Remus leads him inside.

They shed their coats on the sofa, and since his shirt is already completely unbuttoned, Sirius takes it off too. Remus looks at him for a moment, longingly, Sirius thinks, and he's more grateful for that look than for a lifetime of expensive but impersonal presents under the tree. He turns out everything but the Christmas tree lights and puts on some Christmas music while Remus pours them a drink in the kitchen. He lets the music wash over him, closing his eyes and leaning against Remus's bedroom door.

"Ready?" Remus asks, brushing his lips against Sirius's ear.

"Mmm," Sirius says, turning around to kiss him, taking the drink with one hand and leading Remus inside with the other. Moonlight casts shadows over the room.

They finish their drinks at the same time and set them on the nightstand.

"So," Sirius says.

"So."

Sirius looks down and realises he's shirtless but still wearing his scarf. He starts to pull it off.

"Leave it on," says Remus, grabbing each end of the scarf and backing them onto the bed. Sirius presses into him, grinding their hips together and losing himself in the delicious friction of Remus's hard cock rubbing against his. His mouth travels down Remus neck, biting hard when Remus grips his arse.

"Sorry," he says, kissing the spot before pulling back. "All right?"

"I told you once," Remus says roughly, rolling them over so that he's on top of Sirius. "I don't need protecting."

Sirius doesn't have to be told again. He rips open Remus's shirt, sending buttons flying across the room and muttering, "I'll buy you a new one for Christmas." He digs his fingers into Remus's shoulders, biting his way softly down Remus's throat and chest until his tongue is swirling round Remus's taut nipple.

"Ah," Remus moans, his hand dipping into the back of Sirius's pants.

Sirius wraps his legs around Remus and thrusts their hips together as Remus's hand slips farther down, his fingers brushing against Sirius's entrance.

"Let's get these off, shall we," Remus says, sitting back and divesting Sirius of the rest of his clothes.

Sirius sits up to undo Remus's trousers because God, he's got to touch him _now_ , but Remus pushes him back onto the bed. "Lie back," he says, easing Sirius up against the pillows as he reaches for the bedside lamp. "I want to see you."

"Remus—" Sirius says, as the dim light comes on.

"Shh," Remus says, placing a finger against Sirius's lips as his eyes travel down Sirius's body. "You're beautiful." He kisses him again before standing up, and Sirius can't help himself—he lets his hand slide down his stomach and wrap around his cock as he watches Remus undress, undoing his belt, his trousers, and kicking his underwear off.

Remus looks at him, eyes wild with lust as he squeezes his cock. He walks to the bed with purpose, lying down beside Sirius. "I thought about you here in my bed, this morning, while I was doing this," he says, sliding his hand up and down his cock and moaning. Sirius can feel the wet warmth against his thigh, and he gives his own cock another squeeze before reaching out for Remus's.

But Remus chooses that moment to roll on top of him, pinning Sirius's wrists against the bed as their cocks glide together. Slowly, tantalizingly. Sirius moans, trying to match Remus's lazy rhythm, but when Remus's hand brushes against Sirius's scarf, spread out on the pillow, and he wraps it around Sirius's wrists, Sirius's hips buck in response.

"You like that?" Remus whispers, tightening the hold.

"Yes," Sirius hisses, too far gone to be embarrassed.

"Turn over," Remus says, and Sirius complies.

Remus undoes the scarf so he can loop it through the bed railings and around Sirius's wrists again. He pauses before tying it off. "You sure?" he whispers, kissing Sirius's back and running a hand along his side.

"Yeah," Sirius says shakily, winding his fingers through the railings as Remus secures him to the bed.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop, then." Remus leans over and opens the nightstand, pulling something out before closing the drawer. He traces his tongue along Sirius's back and neck, stopping when he reaches his ear. "Sit up a bit."

Sirius rises to his knees, his cock throbbing with anticipation. He wants to touch himself but remembers he can't, so he grips the headboard instead.

"Fuck," he gasps, when Remus runs a cool, wet finger along his cleft and reaches around to coat Sirius's cock in lube.

Remus's movements are agonizingly slow and delicious. One hand glides up and down around Sirius's cock, rubbing a thumb along the head, while the other traces Sirius cleft and only teases at the entrance. Sirius can feel himself opening further and further, and wants Remus inside. But Remus keeps up his slow tease, sometimes stopping altogether, simply running his hands between Sirius's thighs, leaving his cock alone, or else tracing patterns on his arse with light fingers before bringing them back to where Sirius really wants them.

"Remus, God, please," Sirius groans, and he can't help himself—he thrusts his cock against the mattress and his arse in the air.

"Tell me what you want, Sirius."

"I want you to fuck me," Sirius moans. He's afraid Remus is going to tease him all bloody night. But then a long, cool finger slips inside.

"Ah," Sirius says, and he swears he can see stars behind his eyes.

Remus works another finger in, and then another, and starts a slow, thrusting motion. His other hand is still conspicuously absent from Sirius's cock, but then Sirius hears Remus rip something open, and he can feel the tip of Remus's cock against his arse, can feel Remus's hand brush against his thighs as he touches himself.

"You want me to fuck you, Sirius?" he asks, his voice low and throaty as he jerks off against Sirius, his fingers thrusting more quickly now.

"God, yes, fuck me, Remus, fuck me."

Remus pulls out his fingers and guides himself inside, wrapping his other hand around Sirius's cock and timing his movements slowly until they reach an easy, aching rhythm.

But they've been waiting for this forever, or at least Sirius thinks he has, and he knows he's not going to last. "I'm going to come," he says, thrusting back harder against Remus and fucking the tight circle of Remus's fingers. "Come with me, Remus. Come with me."

Remus tightens his hold on Sirius's cock and speeds up his pace, gripping Sirius's arse just like Sirius imagined he would and driving his cock harder, faster, deeper into Sirius, and oh—Sirius can't hold off any longer—he comes all over Remus's hand, his cock softening but his heart still hammering as Remus continues to fuck him.

"Fuck, Sirius, fuck," Remus says, burying himself deep inside and shuddering. He collapses against Sirius's back, pulling a few sweaty locks from his face and kissing him.

"That was bloody brilliant," he finally says, untying Sirius and kissing him again before turning out the lamp. "Might need to get you a new scarf, though. Or at least wash this one."

Sirius turns to his side and pulls Remus's arms around him, bringing Remus's hand to his lips. "Worth it."

They lie there like that, drifting towards sleep, but Sirius doesn't want the night to end yet. "So what do you want to do tomorrow?" he asks, nudging Remus in the side.

"A lot more of this, I hope," Remus says, draping his leg over Sirius's, and Sirius is pleasantly surprised when Remus's cock twitches against his arse. "And who knows, maybe I'll let you try out that scarf on me."

"Oh, really?" Sirius rolls over onto his back. With everything else that has happened, he hasn't yet had a chance to properly touch Remus, and that is really quite a shame.

He picks up the scarf and teases it along Remus's side, letting it drift down, down, down. "No time like the present," he says, leaning in for another kiss.


End file.
